Man's Best Friend
by Goggle Girl
Summary: A brief look into the life of Remus Lupin as he houses the convict, Sirius Black, and the relationship and companion between the two of them as both old childhood friends, and man and dog.


_Author's Notes:_ _Wow, I haven't put anything here in ages, have I? Well, I'm terrible at being consistent, and I suppose I've been kept fairly busy by my rather sporadic university schedule. But meh, anyways... this story, okay. I started writing it several months ago on a bit of a request. I wanted to write some fluff but didn't know about what or who and so I asked my friend to give me two characters. She selected Sirius and Remus. She was probably secretly hoping for slash (as she always does) but I'm not that sort of writer OR shipper. So slash fans? Sorry. But I'm sure if you wanted to, you could see undertones... everyone pretty much does seem to see them everywhere. Anyway, I started this and promptly forgot about it and let it sit unfinished until I found it again and picked it back up... having no idea what I had initially intended with the story. Fortunately, I stumbled across a couple pictures to get my inspiration going and there you go. I know this doesn't realistically fit in with canon as it takes place in autumn and Sirius was only "laying low at Lupin's" for pretty much the summer between GoF and OotP... but you know what? Whatever. It's a one-shot deal and that's all._

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters belong to me or anything; all credit for their creation goes to J.K. Rowling.

_**Man's Best Friend**_

Something wet is attacking Remus' face, snapping him out of a deep and colourful dreamy sleep. Feeling groggy and blind, he brings his hand up to his face, vaguely dreading that his poor old roof has got another leak in it. As he does, his fingers brush against soft fur.

"Sirius, you bloody fool, gross!" rasps Remus, blearily opening his eyes and pushing at the fur. He hears a bark in response that makes his head throb. The bear-sized dog comes back for a second assault, pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. Remus is ready this time, heaving the dog back with all the strength he can muster. There is a thud as the dog tumbles off the side of the bed and hits the floor.

Remus sits up, rubbing his aching shoulder and peers over the edge of the bed. The dog is gone and instead a thin dark-haired man is grinning broadly at Remus. "Good morning!"

Remus grunts and lies back down. If it is indeed morning it certainly doesn't feel like a good one. But at least his roof _isn't_ leaking.

"Oh no you don't." Sirius picks himself off the floor and grabs Remus' sheets. "You've been in bed for three straight days."

"I'm recovering," replies Remus. "I hurt."

"You have never once needed to spend three days in bed after the full moon when myself or..." Sirius' voice falters for a moment. "Or James was around to spend it with you."

"I don't feel well," insists Remus.

"Probably because you haven't bathed. The water's back on, you know."

"It is? But..." Remus fixes Sirius with one of his You-Really-Shouldn't-Be-Giving-Me-Charity looks. "Padfoot..."

"What? Oh get over it, Moony. If it'll make you feel better, I took care of the bill because _I_ wanted to shower. I was entirely selfish in the act."

Remus sighs as Sirius tugs the sheets off him in one fluid movement. "Okay... I'm getting up..."

"Good," grins Sirius, "because I'm hungry and I'm getting sick of just eating eggs."

"You need to expand your culinary horizons," says Remus as he carefully tests the floor with his feet.

"Why? That's what women and Moonys are for."

"Mmmhmm, I'm sure..." Remus stands up and is fine at first, but as he takes a step he can feel his leg shake and give way, and he falls forward. Sirius is there, catching him before he hits the ground.

"Your leg again, isn't it?" he asks gently. Remus grunts, trying to push Sirius off and right himself but his friend won't have any of it. "Stop struggling and let me help you."

"I'm not letting you in the bathroom with me," says Remus flatly.

"Oh damn, you've crushed my dreams," replies Sirius, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Come on, grumpy, I'll just help you down the hall."

Remus tries continuously to right himself as Sirius practically carries him down the hall to the bathroom, but every time he struggles against Sirius, he only manages to trip himself up. Eventually, the werewolf gives up and leans into the man, allowing himself to be walked down the hall. As Sirius and Remus reach the bathroom, Remus sees a battered cane leaning against the wall. He's always been reluctant to use it to move around after the full moon but if it means Sirius doesn't have to carry him around, then Remus is willing to lose a little dignity.

"I can take it from here," says Remus, reaching out for the cane and nudging Sirius off.

"Are you sure?" asks Sirius. Remus nods and hobbles into the dingy bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving Sirius alone in the dark hallway.

* * *

Sirius is sitting quietly in the small kitchen, watching a small spider spin itself a web in one of the room's upper corners. In the hall he can hear the solemn lonely ticking of Remus' grandfather clock. He's worried about Remus; his friend seems to be stuck in some sort of a dark rut. Sirius has spent the past few weeks listening to Remus agonize over everything: how little variety there is in his food, how barren and run down the house looks, how trashy his furniture is, etc. Sirius doesn't understand why Remus keeps going on like this. All Sirius asked for was a roof over his head to keep himself dry. He hasn't asked Remus to impress him with his living space. The truth is that Remus' house and all the flats he ever owned or rented looked this way.

So why make such a big deal about it now? And why has he spent the past three days in bed? Yes, his leg is bothering him but it always does... and it's never kept him cooped up in bed. Remus is depressed, Sirius concludes, but as to why he hasn't the faintest idea. Has he maybe done something to upset him? Paying the water bill perhaps? No, that can't be it - Remus was depressed before the water was shut off.

Sirius' thoughts are interrupted by a rhythmic thumping and clunking. He looks up to see Remus limp by, cane in hand, struggling to throw on his tattered and patched brown coat. Sirius looks up questioningly and catches Remus' gaze. "I'm going for a walk."

"But it's cold out," says Sirius, "and you didn't want to get out of bed. Now you want to go outside?"

Remus shrugs, wrapping a dull scarf around his neck. "I'll be back later." And without another word, Remus is gone.

* * *

The autumn months are the one time of the year that Remus doesn't completely despise the area where he lives. As he walks under the colourful ceiling of the nearby woods, crunching dried fallen leaves beneath his feet, he feels a very rare sense of comfort wash over him. It allows him to mull over anything and everything without crushing his spirit or darkening his mood which is a good thing because he has a lot of things weighing on his mind. It isn't Sirius that's troubling him; he's okay with the past now and he and Sirius have both moved on quite well from their hasty reunion in the Shrieking Shack to the awkward evening when Sirius appeared on his doorstep in the rain, clutching a message from Dumbledore that told Remus he was to give the convict shelter and board. Remus' first job had been to restore Sirius' health - spending a year eating rats and sleeping outside had taken its toll. Then came the nightmares, echoes of Sirius' years in Azkaban. Remus had needed to go out and buy a small lamp for Sirius' room - he couldn't sleep with the lights off for a few weeks. And even then, Remus often awoke to discover his old friend curled up in bed next to him like a child.

But that's all over with now. Sirius looks healthier, seems cheerier and more like the man Remus remembers and, even though Sirius often expresses frustration at not being permitted to wander outside, he seems to be able to tolerate it as long as Remus is around to keep him company.

No, it's something else that's bothering him. A great unexplainable emptiness that's been festering for some time. Remus is loathe to accept it or embrace it because it's stupid; it's silly; it's absolutely ridiculous for someone like him - someone of his condition and such, to be thinking about such a thing during such a time. But listening to a couple of birds twitter amongst the trees drives the point home: he's LONELY. Lonely in the sort of way that no amount of friends can ever fill; starving for that special companionship one achieves in a relationship that stretches beyond any sort of ordinary friendship, beyond even what he as a Marauder had.

Remus hates to admit it, but he is without a doubt lonely and in need of love.

Grumbling to himself on the ridiculousness of the situation, Remus kicks a loose stone down the path ahead of him.

"Damn it all to hell," he growls. He shouldn't be thinking about these sort of things. It's stupid; it's uncalled for; it is, above all, inappropriate for what's currently going on in the world around him.

Still... it's depressing to want something you know you can never have.

Ahead of Remus, the line of trees breaks, giving way to the crest of a hill which looks down into a shallow valley. Remus likes this part of the countryside. Below Remus the countryside stretches outwards, a combination of colourful leaves and roaming pastures. In spite of how he's been feeling, Remus can't help but smile. Autumn, he reflects, is beautiful. England, in autumn, is beautiful. But then it leaves him to be replaced by one nagging wish: he wants to share this with someone.

Something cold and wet brushes against Remus' hand, startling him. Remus steps away, recoiling from the touch, and, losing his balance, falls into the underbrush of leaves. He slowly sits up, picking a few leaves out of his hair absently. The large black dog which woke him up that morning is standing patiently on the path in front of him. Padfoot's tail wags enthusiastically.

"What are you doing out here?" Remus asks, groping around for his cane.

Padfoot steps forward and nudges the cane towards Remus. Smiling weakly, Remus takes the cane and, with a groan, manages to right himself. He looks down at the dog sitting by his side. "Decided to follow, hmmm?" The dog nodds, pawing gently at Remus' leg. "Okay then; come on."

Remus turns from the edge of the hill and makes his way back beneath the trees, Padfoot padding along softly beside him. The path begins to slope upwards and Remus has to slow down, limping more and more as his leg begins to ache more intensely. Eventually, Remus has to pause and take a rest, stopping on a little bridge that crosses a small creek. Leaning his cane against the railing, Remus leans over the side, quietly watching the running water. It runs, blue and clear like liquid crystal beneath the bridge and along its depression in the ground. Now and again a leaf will fall - crimson, gold, or dusty brown - and Remus will watch it be swept away, carried along to who knows where... wherever the movement of the water takes it.

"Peaceful out here." Remus turns. Sirius has turned back to his human self and is leaning back against the bridge railing. Always posing as if a woman may be watching, Remus thinks to himself; some things about people just never change.

"You know you're not supposed to be out in public like this." It's all Remus can really think of saying.

"I wouldn't consider this public," is the quick reply. "I'd call it solitude... isolation... meditative." Sirius turns and looks at Remus. "It's you is what it is. A Moony place."

"Bores you to tears, huh?"

"No." Sirius turns around and leans, like Remus, watching the water run beneath them. "Padfoots may be attracted to places that are generally loud, smoky, and packed with people... but occasionally peace and quiet is nice."

"To get rid of a hangover, right?"

Sirius smiles and reaches up at a low-hanging tree branch. "Yeah, pretty much. But the bright colours are attracting too." There are a couple of cracks and Sirius is holding two thin pieces of wood that once belonged to the tree. "I'll play you sticks."

Sticks is a rather primitive game, not often played by anyone above eight and something Remus hasn't played in ages. Sirius and Remus count to ten and drop their sticks over one side of the bridge. Then they lean over the other side to see whose stick will drift out from beneath the bridge first. Remus thinks winning the game is all up to chance, but Sirius has always insisted that the shape of the stick, its length, and thickness all contribute to the speed at which it the stick will race down the creek. Still, it is oddly relaxing for Remus to watch the sticks float along the river while Sirius cheers every time his stick wins.

No one disturbs them for the day, and as time drifts by, Remus begins to think less and less about his trouble. Now he thinks he understands why Sirius often acts like a child - it's healing. Reverting to younger times - happier times and happier memories may not be mature, but it feels nice and it makes the world seem brighter.

Sirius notices the smile tugging at the corners of Remus' mouth. He grins, pleased that perhaps Remus' mood of the past three days is lifting. His old friend seems to be coming back and Sirius is glad of it.

"It's a bit chilly, let's go home." Remus' smile is gone but the cheery light in his eyes is still there. He picks up his cane and begins to limp back the way they came. "Nice though... perhaps we should do this again."

"That's my Moony," quips Sirius before he reverts back to the dog at Remus' side.

As they walk down the path, Padfoot trotting ahead amongst the leaves, Remus can feel the childlike happiness of the sticks game fading away. But the sadness of the morning doesn't swirl back into place. It's still there, quiet and dull at the back of his mind. But watching his canine companion and best friend chase falling leaves down the path, and listening to the natural calm of the woods, Remus can feel himself clear up. It must be something about dogs, he muses, watching Padfoot sit and watch a few leaves blow by. You don't need people so much when you have them. So perhaps Remus doesn't need to feel lonely; there may be no girl for him but he has a dog who acts as the best friend anyone could ask for.

And that, Remus thinks, as he stops to look up at the crimson canopy, is enough to keep him going.

* * *

_There you go! Reviews are appreciated greatly._


End file.
